


Delivered a Crime

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Series: Refraction [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 07:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7836505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In one world, Jack Morrison is given Overwatch in his hands alone.</p><p>This is not that world. In this world, the UN looks at Overwatch, a organization still in it’s infancy, and gives it to two men instead of one. </p><p>Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison: Co-Commanders of Overwatch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delivered a Crime

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled with a title for this one.
> 
> I'm likely to dabble more in this verse, thus the series tag. It's really just role reversals thrown in a blender.

In one world, Jack Morrison is given Overwatch in his hands alone.

It’s a familiar world, a world with a story most know by heart. Jack Morrison is given Overwatch after the Omnic Crisis, chosen over Gabriel Reyes for being “suitable.” Gabriel Reyes is given Blackwatch, left to muddle through the sludge that hides under Overwatch’s perfect exterior, the dirty work seeping into his boots and eventually his soul. Friends become enemies. Resentment builds, resentment over a promotion, over an approach, over the lines that man can cross to keep his family safe. The Swiss HQ blows. Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison die. Reaper and Solider 76 are born. 

In one world, this is the story, the story people will tell for decades because “it’s rather tragic isn’t it, in retrospect, they looked so close in those old videos.” In one world, Overwatch falls with them and is resurrected by someone else. In one world, Reaper and Solider 76 live in tandem, the rest of their lives defined by one another.

This is not that world. In this world, the UN looks at Overwatch, a organization still in it’s infancy, and gives it to two men instead of one. 

Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison: Co-Commanders of Overwatch. 

It is not the only change, not by a long shot. There are more, dozens upon dozens of shifts in the timeline, from a Clan Heir killed for his defiance to quell his disobedient brother, and later, to a genius female architect who steals a Vishkar light projection unit and retools it as a tool of rebellion against it’s own creators. But it’s a change that matters. Overwatch never falls. Blackwatch loses less agents to Talon under the command of Ana Amari. And less notably, Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes never stop being friends.

If one wants to be specific, they become something more. Not that anyone would know it, outside of close friends. Close friends and perhaps the cameras in their office after missions came a little too close. Nothing explicit of course; professionalism is professionalism. But gestures. Looks. And on one occasion, a crushing hug.

“Gabe?” Jack asks, after Gabriel walks in the door, still in his command field outfit. He hasn’t bothered to change, which is a rarity, the blood stains that coat his sleeves and pants easy to see on the blue fabric. Jack is already out of his seat, walking over to the door, and when he notices Gabriel isn’t wearing gloves his stomach twists. Not Gabe’s blood then. Someone elses. “Are you hurt-”

He doesn’t finish, Gabriel pulling him into a crushing hug. It’s almost uncomfortable, a little too tight, but Gabriel is shaking and Jack can’t remember him being this in-composed since a fight during the Omnic Crisis left Jack’s left side full of holes. He returns the hug, touch light, and when he speaks, his voice is low.

“How many?” They both know what he’s asking.

“Five. Caught us by surprise.”

Jack’s throat constricts. He thinks of those out with them. “Who-”

“Jenkins, Keller and a three of Amari’s men.”

Jack knows those names. They’re good men, damn great men, and new too. Jenkins has a wife at home, he thinks. He met her only last week.

“Jesus.” Jack already knows he’ll be writing those letters to next of kin by tonight; he won’t be able to sleep until they’re done. He won’t be able to sleep when they’re done either, he thinks. He pulls back to look at Gabriel’s face but the other man clings.

“Don’t let go.” It’s a quiet echo in the empty office. 

Jack obliges, putting off questions of specifics for later, for the report. That can wait, as can asking Gabriel if he’s gone to medical (likely not), if someone is with each surviving agent to make sure they’re okay (they have, Gabe made sure of it), if he’s already told Amari she’s welcome to their couch and presence in times like these (it doesn’t need to be said). Instead, he crushes Gabe closer and takes refuge in the fact Gabriel is back in one piece.

It’s a different world.

But it’s theirs. 


End file.
